


I went to NYC and all I got was a [redacted] job

by Haunted_Frost



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Gen, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, The Avengers Are Good Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haunted_Frost/pseuds/Haunted_Frost
Summary: Stiles went to New York for college. Getting a job was a bonus.  The perks?  Well, being affiliated with SHIELD will look great on his resume, if that's ever declassified.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Avengers Team
Comments: 42
Kudos: 788





	I went to NYC and all I got was a [redacted] job

“It’s not unusual for pack members to go to college, Stiles. I went to college.” Derek rolled his eyes in exasperation—well, better than Shoving Stiles™ at every annoyance. 

“Really. It wasn’t all howling at the moon 101 and Fanfiction Versus Reality: What Fantasy Creatures Exist?”

“I majored in architecture. I even graduated with a bachelor’s degree. I didn’t just lurk around New York, Stiles. I tried to make something of myself.” Stiles stuck out his tongue like the mature adult he was. 

“Yeah, well, thanks for offering your apartment. I really appreciate it.”

“Right—the McAllister Pack owns the complex, and their territory covers the whole city, so you’ll be able to check in with them on the supernatural end of things.” 

Stiles grinned fondly. He laid a peck on his boyfriend’s cheek. 

“I’ll miss you too, Sourwolf.”

“Yeah, well,” Derek smiled, “Don’t get hurt. It’s far away. Much as I’d like to be able to drop everything and be there in an hour, it takes some time to fly across the country. _Try_ and stay out of trouble.”

* * *

The McAllisters were pretty chill. He walked into the complex, keys in hand, and grinned at the sight of two children playing in the lobby. 

“Ian! Steph!” scolded a woman about Stiles’ age. Stiles laughed a little bit while she tried to get the boy, apparently Ian, out from under the couch. Steph was giggling from a chair nearby. Ooh, that girl wanted to watch the world burn. 

“Need any help?” Stiles offered. She huffed. 

“Unless you know how to deal with toddler wolves, I doubt you’ll be much help.” 

“I deal with high school and college wolves, which is basically the same thing,” he shrugged, pulling a talisman from his backpack. Muttering the password to activate it, he dangled it in front of the couch. 

It was kinda like a laser pointer for cats, ducks, and drunk students—a soft glow created images on the floor, drawing the kid out. 

“Thank you,” the woman sighed, scooping the boy up before he could run off again. 

“You’re welcome. Stiles—Hale-McCall Pack Emissary. I’m staying during the school year.” Her eyes widened. 

“That’s right! Oh my gosh, I’m Lisa Marconi—one of the betas,” her eyes flashed yellow as she grinned. “Nice to meet you.”

* * *

Lisa, apparently, went to school with him, though her classes did not line up at _all_ with his. 

“Criminology, Library Science, _and_ a classic mythology minor? You’ve got a huge load,” she whistled, “I’ll stick to murdering myself over music theory. Hey, alliteration!” They did have a free period though, when they could go out for lunch together. A few kids from his gen ed classes were their friends, too. Michelle and Eddie, from the same high school, were in mostly journalism courses, but apparently had snagged the intro to Greek mythology course on a whim together. 

Eddie was also in an early-level criminology course with Peter, wanting his journalism career to basically include muckraking and being an interview away from corruption crumbling. 

Therefore, it didn’t surprise him that, when their professor offered flyers to join an international intelligence agency on an internship, he and Eddie were all for it. 

Well, Eddie apparently already worked for them, as Stiles found out later, but semantics. 

“I don’t know why they’d let random college kids work for sensitive intelligence,” Michelle grumbled, tearing the flyer away from Eddie. “That’s a pretty big security problem.”

“I mean, they probably don’t let interns handle sensitive stuff,” argued Stiles. _After all, I can keep a secret, but sometimes the dirtiest work is just the busy work no one tells you about_. 

“I’m going to send in an email,” Stiles shrugged, “It’ll look good to law enforcement people, right? It’ll prove that I’m trustworthy even though I’m clearly not.”

He said as much to his dad, calling him that night. 

“Right, your nosiness will definitely be looked over once you hack into some secrets and cause an international crisis, but you won’t tell a soul about it, so it’ll look good on your resume in a secret prison.” Stiles scoffed and skyped the pack next. It went just about as well. 

“Don’t let them disappear you, Stiles!” Scott whined. 

“Don’t be dumb,” Lydia said. 

“Be safe,” Derek offered.

“Thank you, Sourwolf. All of you, really, your confidence in me is astounding.”

* * *

He got an email back—the address was encrypted, tempting, but he wasn’t going to hand it over to Danny for suspicion unless absolutely necessary. The message was at least straightforward. 

_Mr. Stilinski,_

_Please bring the attached form, filled out, along with the various proofs of identity listed, to the Enterprise Hotel Conference Room 23. You will join with other applicants in an intense interview process and some physical risk assessments. Do not inform others of this opportunity, as only specific student interest demographics were chosen in sending out these forms. Our agency is top secret and telling others about it in any unsecure (online, phone, public conversation) manner will result in the termination of your application amongst other minor disciplinary actions. If at any point your position here is compromised, you will be compensated or disciplined accordingly._

* * *

Well, of course Stiles was going to sign up. He got all his paperwork in order and then made his way to the hotel. There were probably fifteen other applicants, and there were four intimidating people at the front of the room. 

There were two ladies two dudes—all in varying gear. The blonde lady had on a blazer—an office worker, maybe? While the brunette had practically SWAT gear on minus the protective shield. One guy was like an older James Bond, and the other had a freaking eye patch and long coat. _Would it be offensive to ask him if I could cosplay as him at Comicon this year? Oh shit it would probably be a confidential thing._

Suit guy gathered the paperwork and verified it all with SWAT lady. Eye Patch glared at the line of them. Stiles repressed the urge to cough or gulp. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask Inez, Mark, and Colin to leave,” Coulson said after looking through everything, “You don’t meet the requirements in your time availability. Focus on your studies and current jobs; this one will take up too much of your time.” 

Wow, tough crowd. The three of them left quickly. 

“My name is Phil Coulson—unless you talk to Tony Stark, in which case my first name is Agent. You’ve applied for an internship at SHIELD.”

Ooh, wow. Stiles was nerdy enough to know about the Avengers security backers to some degree—after the Hydra scandal, the organization had gone through a huge revamp. Which made Eye Patch Guy—

“I’m Nick Fury, SHIELD’s Director. Rumors of my death have been exaggerated to the public so that we can organize with decent, non-Nazi lunatics and still do our goddamn jobs. Anyone uncomfortable with working with SHIELD should probably head out now—and if information gets out, well, there will be consequences. Mostly financial, and I know there’s a saying about broke college students.” A pair of applicants glanced at each other, grabbed their resumes, and left. 

“At this rate, we’ll only have one intern,” sighed SWAT lady. “I’m Agent Hill, and this is Agent Carter. This will be a physically, emotionally, and mentally demanding job. Ideally, your normal job description is cleaning up debris after Avengers battles, organizing paperwork, directing evacuations, data entry, and delivery of sensitive material. Unfortunately, we have to have precautions set in case you’re put in a more dangerous position.” Ah. So while the job wouldn’t be being an actual agent, they had to train like one in case of mishaps.

“I’ll handle the general interview,” Agent Carter said, “Agent Hill will determine whether you are physically able to handle some basic combat situations. Coulson will cover the espionage and paperwork etiquette. If all of us generally think you’re a good fit, Nick will do a final interview.” No one left this time—but everyone shifted uneasily. 

“Eddie, Rachel, Addison, you’re with me first. We’ll rotate this,” Coulson directed. “India, Demetrius, Violet, with Agent Hill. The rest of you with Carter. Let’s get started.”

* * *

The general interview was like Stiles expected. The paperwork espionage thing was actually pretty interesting—he wasn’t terrible at being sneaky, but there were still some things that Coulson brought up at the end of it. The guy was way too calm—he was probably a secret badass. As for agent Hill, well, her badassery was no secret as she sparred with everyone one-on-one. Stiles kept it mostly evasive and defensive, but he did manage to almost knock her off her feet for a split second. 

He landed on his ass instead, but, you know, he was pretty proud to last as long as he did, anyway. 

Three others were in line for the interview with the director. Eddie, luckily, was one of them. 

“Man, Hill left me flat on my ass,” he grunted. 

“Me too, dude. I don’t think we were meant to win anything though,” he shrugged. 

Fury apparently approved of them all and sent them off with different agents. 

“You’ll all go through a training program that is tailored to your current schedules. Mr. Brock, Ms. Anders, and Mr. Stilinski will be going through field training, while Ms. Khalid and Mr. O’Hara will be in the administrative division. We clear?”

“Crystal,” Stiles responded with a half-grin. 

* * *

Eddie admitted after three weeks that he was transferred to a different department, but told their friends otherwise that he’d had to quit. Peter seemed to get it and recommended some investigative firms. Lisa shrugged. 

“I wouldn’t be able to handle secret stuff,” she said. Stiles nearly choked on his burrito. 

_My ass, you wouldn’t._

* * *

He’d mainly been a glorified janitor and document runner for a few months before it happened. The werewolves in Manhattan, that was. 

Stiles noticed that they weren’t McAllister pack members immediately, followed by seeing a distinct collar that was keeping them transformed. He definitely recognized some fucked up darach magic when he saw it. 

“The fuck?” Stiles glanced around while he herded civilians and began coordinating an apology in his head to Coulson about the whole low-profile thing. He called Lisa as he fiddled in his bag for the essentials. 

“Okay, feral mind-controlled werewolves in the city. My internship policy says not to get involved, the Avengers got this. My actual brain says they don’t got this. Thoughts?”

“Restrain them,” she said immediately. “If the superheroes don’t know about the supernatural by now, well, they’ll just have to deal with magic.”

“Right. Making my way downtown, walking fast, chasing werewolves,” he sung a tiny bit hysterically as he darted towards an abandoned bike to head towards the action. 

“Stiles, what are you doing?” hissed Coulson once he passed him. 

“I know how to restrain them without major damage,” Stiles replied. He then turned to the feral shifted wolves. 

“Hey!” he waved, “Innocent, easy to bite human right over here! You’re missing out, dipshits!”

Ah, the sight of angry supernatural predators charging towards him. How he’d definitely not missed that. He tossed a handful of mountain ash as soon as they converged on him, then dove out of it. The wolves bashed against the barrier and whimpered. 

And that was when the Avengers showed up. 

“Couslon, what’s the situation?” asked Hawkeye, oh god, Stiles had just stolen an Avengers’ job out from under them. _Take that, Peter. I’m much scarier than you._

“My intern just subdued the enemy with dust,” he frowned. Stiles shook his head. 

“Give me a hot minute and I’ll have them free of the freaky mind control collars. Seriously, why is it always collars? There are other, non-dog related wearable jewelry things to be had. Ah, here we go. Oh, dude, that looks like it stings. One sec.” He fiddled with his ritual blade, which ideally cut through magic objects fairly well. One by one, he wrestled a wolf down and took off their collars, tossing them aside. Everyone just kind of stood and stared as the wolves calmed. _Hell yeah, threat reducing for the win._ Once they were all free, he jumped out of the circle again. 

“So, are you all a pack, omegas, what? What’s the story here?” he asked. “Stiles Stilinski, Hale-McCall Emissary here, just trying to keep the peace.”

One of the more macho looking wolves growled. He grinned and shrugged. 

“It’s me or the Avengers, dude, take your pick.”

Of course, said Avengers looked pretty out of their depth, but even so they were intimidating enough for the wolves. 

“Is he a threat?” asked Black Widow. 

“I don’t think so?” said Coulson.

“We’re a pack from New Jersey,” said a shorter guy coming forward, “I’m the Alpha, Gordon Ibsen. Emissary Stilinski—we were on a full moon run.” At this, Stiles heard Tony Stark suppress a great deal of laughter, but not all of it. It came out as a strangled giggle. 

“Hunters with a few civilian mercenaries got ahold of us. Something about selling attack dogs. They had some strains of wolfsbane that put us out of commission before we could fight back. Thank you for getting us free. Excuse Louis, he was born an asshole.” Another growl from apparently-Louis. 

“Okay, what is going on here?” asked Hawkeye. Stiles nodded to Ibsen before facing the Avengers and his supervisor. Hoo boy. Coulson’s face looked like Derek’s when Stiles did dangerous but brilliant things. Proud, concerned, _what the fuck_ , and _you idiot_ , all rolled into one. Of course, Derek’s version definitely had a certain level of “let’s fuck”, but that was boyfriend stuff that was low-key always on Stiles’s mind anyway.

“So, werewolves are a thing. Ibsen, lifting the mountain ash now. No one leaves until we’ve confirmed things with the authorities here, though.”

“Understood. You’re the impartial party here.” Stiles willed the ash back into his pocket. 

“What the actual hell?” asked Tony Stark. 

“Werewolves,” said Romanov flatly. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“You can believe in Norse God aliens, but not werewolves. Cool. Actually, I’m pretty sure they originated with Fenrir, so it’s likely a genetic mutation-slash-virus that they carry from an alien ancestor. Regardless, werewolves. I’m basically the mediator for a pack of them in California. These guys are, for all intents and purposes, law-abiding citizens—they were mind controlled by these collars.” Coulson nodded, like this was a thing that he knew about. 

“Right. No need to arrest them; I just need their official personal statements on what they remember before and during their mind control escapade. I’ll need you to take those collars to Agent Preston for evidence lockdown, and then you and I are going to have a talk about you taking on a job meant for the Avengers.” Well, Stiles was so fired. 

But hey, he got to meet some superheroes in the meantime. 

* * *

“How am I not fired?” Stiles gaped, “I broke like, every rule.” Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Apparently, that means a job offer in a different department, in which everyone seems to throw the rules out of a hundred story window only to catch themselves with fancy shiny armor,” said Black Widow, side-eyeing Tony Stark who was in a heated conversation with Hawkeye about the merits of modding RPG video games. 

Stiles would totally have piped in with a comment about how Danny’s version of Fallout was the best compilation of mods because they were not only all perfect (the girly running mod plus Deadpool or Jack Sparrow player models were the only way to go), they also ran smoother than a vanilla version of the game. He decided to file that away for later in case he needed to bribe Danny with tech connections instead of shirtless would-be boyfriends. 

Instead, he was quiet, and Coulson was nodding. 

“We often have difficulty assessing supernatural threats. Doctor Strange is an enigma we can’t rely on, and Scarlet Witch’s magic is almost entirely self-taught and instinctual. You’re now going to have a position as our resident magic and lore expert at SHIELD while also being a liaison with the Avengers—you report directly to me or one of the Avengers should something come up.”

“Um. Okay. But I’m not supposed to tell people about magic and shit, so I’m going to have to stay on the down low. My boyfriend would give me the disappointed-grumpy-eyebrows, and I can’t take more than forty-seven seconds of those before I crack. Also can I please inform my pack of the situation? It would _really_ suck if I couldn’t.”

“Is the rest of your pack your age?” Coulson raised his eyebrows. 

“Mostly, but they’ve had to keep the supernatural a secret since we were sixteen, so no big. They can keep intense secrets.”

* * *

Which was how Stiles moved out of his apartment with the McAllisters and in with the Avengers, only to Skype as per usual and present his friends with Hawkeye waving in the background. 

“So, about that internship. I might accidentally have become a SHIELD agent and am working with the Avengers now?”

They thought he was joking. Stiles was, in fact, not joking. He gestured to Hawkeye for confirmation. 

“Your friend’s pretty badass,” he said, which, wow, Avenger endorsement. Allison squealed at seeing him, and Jackson scoffed, which, rude.

“I know, believe me,” Derek said fondly. 

“So you’re all werewolves?” asked Tony. “Because the kid said his friends were, and I know we saw things in the streets, but—”

“Not all of us, but most,” said Scott. “Anyway, _dude.”_

“ _Dude_ ,” Stiles laughed, arms swinging wide, “I _know._ ” 

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a oneshot? Haven't decided yet. Just for fun, mostly, or else it would have sat in my wip folder forever.


End file.
